


Before They Became

by Lokisgame



Category: The X-Files
Genre: AU, F/M, Pre-Series, what if
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-14
Updated: 2016-12-14
Packaged: 2018-09-08 14:28:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8848618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lokisgame/pseuds/Lokisgame
Summary: He stopped somewhere between depression and acceptance,  walking a thin line for a long time, one step forward, two steps back.





	

Fox Mulder hated his name. Being 12 years old and having a weird name made him the local weirdo by default. His 8 year old sister wasn't much of a company at home, even less so on the playground. He was getting too old to have a snotty brat tottering behind him everywhere he went. Her and her friend, the puny Scully girl. That night he didn't want to go home early, especially when he had to leave his few friends on the courtyard playing basketball and go watch her when mom and dad went next door for the evening. At least mom allowed him to watch "The Magician" before they went to bed.

When Samantha went missing he hated everything and everyone around him, especially himself. He failed her, he failed his parents, he failed himself. Over the first few moths he worked through almost all stages of what he will in future recognize as the five stages of grief. He stopped somewhere between depression and acceptance, walking a thin line for a long time, one step forward, two steps back. Some days slipping back to anger, some nights bargaining with whatever being up there, burning through his reservoirs of faith untill there was none left. He hid from the world, he hid from his parents, from his mother's quiet resentment and his father's short temper. His friends turned their back on him, finally buckling under the weight of his weirdness. Sometimes the red headed midget tried to talk to him, but he ignored her, it wasn't her sister that disappeared. She couldn't possibly know what he felt. Stupid kid, he thought to himself, rubbing his eyes, on his way home from school leavening her to walk alone 10 steps behind him. 

The summer came and went, autumn brought nothing to be thankful for, nothing merry about Christmas either. Spring came and his grief plateaued. He got used to the pain, the loneliness, the quiet. He looked up, and found the world didn't change. Very few still cared, sometimes he thought he was the only one left. He saw some kids try to bully the mini Scully on her way back from school one day. By that time the crazy rumors about him were flying, Spooky Mulder was his new name. He used it and scared them away.  
"I don't need your help! I can take care of myself" she yelled at him.  
"Sure, fine, whatever" he didn't really care. 

Time goes on. Another summer came and went. He looked up and saw Melissa Scully on the beach in a low cut sun dress. A ray of sunshine pierced through his haze. For the first time in years he felt something else than hatred and sadness. He saw the world around him, sunny and happy and she seemed to be in the center of it.  
He tried to talk to her, she brushed him off. Laughed at him.  
Bill Scully wasn't that generous "Stay away from my sister Spooky"  
He went home with a bruised jaw. Mom didn't really care. 

He picks up running, to burn off the exces energy that seems to build up inside him. He's almost eighteen, soon to leave this place. The farther away the better. Once he concocted a plan inside his head, it gave him purpose. He decided to get his grades back in order and weigh his options. When his parents heard about his plan to go to Oxford they agreed. He thinks they are glad to have him out of their hair. The feeling is mutual.  
Doing laps around the track one day, he spots the midget Scully sharing a cigarette with a boy under the bleachers. The image stands in such contrast with what he knows about her. She's still a good student, her grades far above average, though not as quiet and polite as she used to be and not as shy either. He noticed as she wrapped herself around the guy with enthusiasm. For one second his thoughts went back to her older sister with her post-hippy ways. He can neither remember nor imagine what he saw in her, all that nonsense about auras and chakras that to him looked like nothing more than waving your hands in the air. He wants to understand people through knowledge, not just guesswork and faith. He has little to no faith in people, he'll sooner believe in little green men. 

He went to Oxford. With his new found freedom from his past and expectations, he flourished. He learned new things about world, people and most importantly himself. He learned, he wasn't that bad. He had a knack for understanding people, something far easier than understanding himself. He made effort to reach out and experience new things, new ideas, new girls. He became something of a character, his spookiness an asset. What was weird at home here took shape of an alluring mystery. His brooding hazel eyes caught attention of more than one girl. He wasn't a loser anymore.  
When Phoebe found him he thought he met his match. He fell in love, foolishly diving head first into her red clawed hands. She sunk her teeth in him, had her fun, ripped out his heart and drove a stake through it, then moved on to the next victim.  
He licked his wounds. Got up, but not as the same person he was before. More cautious these days, he withdrew hiding in his studies for some time. His time at Oxford was almost at an end. Shortly before graduation he was approached by the FBI, they lured him with the usual talk, of making a difference, helping people and saving the world. He agreed. Graduated with honors and went home for the summer. 

He returned from Oxford, aged 23.  
The midget Scully was 19, had a steady boyfriend, but still remembered the brother of her first best friend. Still small and a redhead and completely not his type, she changed, or maybe he changed. After rigorous psychology training, years of looking for and identifying patterns in erratic human behavior, quantifying and assigning names to them, her scientific methods and practical no-nonsense attitude felt more comfortable to him than he'd like to admit. They meet sometimes on their way home, somehow taking the long way around, walking and talking about all things. She spent her evenings with her boyfriend, he sat in his bedroom window sipping beer and reading his old journals from when he was a kid, trying to make sense of it. Who he was and who he's going to be.

She was to leave for college the next day, like her father always wanted.  
He was to start his training at the FBI Academy in a few weeks, like his father never wanted.  
She was walking home and saw him sitting on the porch, sipping beer and working his way through a bag of sunflower seeds. She sat next to him and stared up into the sky in silence. He looked down at her and in a spur of the moment leaned in and kissed her goodbye on the last night of her old life.  
"Good luck Scully" he said as she got up and put a small hand on top of his head.  
"Good luck Mulder" she smiled and went home leaving him in the dark. For now.


End file.
